


Of Blood and Gears

by Soaraus



Category: Original Work
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-30
Updated: 2016-11-30
Packaged: 2018-09-03 09:02:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 2,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8706157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Soaraus/pseuds/Soaraus





	1. A Villain's Perspective

Ellen Daley fussed about the house, trying to get everything to look presentable for the family dinner that night. Her brother- and sister-in-law were coming over, but her sister wasn’t invited.  
She had three different things cooking in the kitchen, and countless small tasks she needed to do. Richard, her husband, was out buying desserts and such from a baker a little ways away. She didn’t know where her son was, probably upstairs pouting.  
Ellen called up to her son, “Richard, come down here! I need some help cleaning up the house.”  
With no response, Ellen marched upstairs and rapped on Richard’s door, “Richard, honey, I need some help.”  
There was a swishing of papers and the clatter of metal hitting the floor from the other side of the door.  
“My name isn’t Richard mom.”  
The voice was angry and defeated all at the same time, but Ellen only heard rebellion and laziness, “It very well is. Do I need to take you to Father again for him to show you?”  
The noise from the room stopped. Ellen couldn’t even hear her son breathing through the thin wood of the door.  
She waited outside, very well aware how much time she was wasting by waiting for her poor, confused son.  
Nothing happened, so Ellen tried again, her voice dripping like honey, “You’re just confused, I’m only trying to help you. The least you could do is help me around the house a little.”  
Richard grumbled something Ellen couldn’t hear, and opened the door to come face to face with his mother.  
Ellen looked in horror at her son’s hair. She hadn’t realized how long it had gotten. She couldn’t have Richard looking like that for the family dinner. She breathed out noisily through her nose and put her hands on her hips.  
“You need a haircut,” she said matter-of-factly, “Come to the bathroom, I can cut it for you.”  
“No.” Richard’s voice wavered, but he was defiant.  
“What was that?” Ellen’s voice had an edge to it.  
“You’re not cutting my hair. It’s my hair.”  
“You’re my son, Richard.”  
“I’m not your son! I’m not!” Richard was shouting, voice cracking.  
Ellen grabbed her son’s arm violently, “You will not talk to me that way sir,” she hissed, “You need to look presentable for your family.”  
“How can you say it’s a family dinner when you didn’t invite your own sister?” Richard tried to tear away from his mother’s grasp, but to no avail.  
“Because she’s just as blind as you are.”  
Ellen dragged Richard to the bathroom and forced him to the floor. She got her scissors out of her bathroom closet. She was doing this for her son. She said a small prayer to God, apologizing for not being able to lead her son down a path of righteousness.  
Then she cut. Snip snip snip, and Richard’s curly locks fell away. He was shaking with silent sobs.  
Ellen’s voice was sweet and kind, “I’m doing this for you Richard. This ‘Reilly’ character you’ve created for yourself will only lead you astray. I love you.”


	2. Car Keys

Shanon smiled at Reilly, who now stood taller than she did, “Excited?”  
Reilly grinned, “No, I’m not. I feel awful and I don’t want to be here.”  
Shanon sighed and shook her head as they stepped up to the desk at the BMV. Reilly already had her temps in her hand, ready to be rid of it. Shanon knew she couldn’t wait to get her driver’s license. Hell, Reilly practically had it already.  
She looked up at her niece before she left to take the driving test, “Good luck.”  
Reilly smiled, a big cocky smile, “I won’t need it.”  
Shanon laughed and sat down to wait for Reilly. She thought back to the first day Reilly had driven to her house. The girl had never driven before. She just stole her parents’ car and left. And it was a stick!  
She smiled and fiddled with her scarf. She remembered when she first went driving with Reilly, she was scared for her life as her eager niece drove through the area with unreserved… everything. God, her heart had felt like it was going to jump out of her throat.  
Reilly had gotten better though; driving was as natural to the girl as breathing. Shanon leaned back and smiled. Her niece was right, she wasn’t going to need the luck.  
Less than half an hour later, Reilly sauntered in beaming.  
Shanon smiled, “Pass?”  
Reilly grinned, “Yeah. I just need my picture taken.”  
The two walked over to the desk, and one came back with her key to freedom.


	3. Teachers

The entire shop shook. Shanon shot up from her desk and stormed downstairs.  
“Reilly what in hell’s name do you think you’re doing?”  
There was smoke wafting from the previously peaceful workshop. Shanon was angry, but not furious. A 15-year-old Reilly carefully stepped out of the smoking workshop.  
“You’re not angry, are you Auntie?”  
Shanon looked at Reilly with such fury and such care, “Am I angry? Of-bloody-course I’m angry! You blew up the shop and practically shook down the house!”  
Reilly cast her gaze to the floor, but couldn’t help a proud smile from growing on her lips, “Wanna see what I did?”  
Shanon sighed, “I can see what ya did Reilly. You nearly blew my shop to bits is what ya did.”  
Reilly shook her head, a wildly sly smile held in her eyes, “No. Auntie c’mon.”  
She grabbed Shanon’s wrist and pulled her into the workshop to the source of the smoke and most likely the explosion.  
What Shanon saw made her jaw drop. “Reilly… What did you do with my old motorcycle?”  
Reilly was positively beaming, “I fixed it!”  
Shanon didn’t know whether to be angry or laugh, “You… Fixed it.” She gestured vaguely to the smoke that still hung in the air, “This means you fixed it.”  
“Yeah! The engine was just. A little moody though…” Reilly laughed, “But I got it to start!”  
Shanon laughed with tears in her eyes. Whether it was from smoke or nostalgia, she didn’t know, “How’d you know how to fix it?”  
Reilly smiled and looked up at Shanon with eyes filled with admiration, “You taught me.”


	4. A Local Diner

Richard was 12. She was sitting in a diner crying. Auntie sat across from her. She was talking but Richard didn’t listen.  
It was early. Very early. Richard didn't remember how she got here. She didn't want to remember anything right now. The menu sat in front of her, covered in tears. Something got through to her. Auntie was asking something.  
“Richard what’s wrong, please tell me. What happened? I’m sure it’s nothing a plate of pancakes with blueberry sauce can’t fix.”  
Auntie smiled sadly, and Richard glimpsed her nodding to a waitress through her tears. Richard didn’t say anything, but she was beginning to stop crying. Her sobbing slowly turned into broken breaths and tears slowly dried.  
It wasn’t until Richard had a plate of blueberry-covered pancakes sitting in front of her that she said anything, “I don’t want to be called Richard anymore.”

 

Reilly was 14. Sitting in the same spot she sat when she told Auntie she wanted to be called Reilly. She was crying again. Auntie was still sitting across from her.  
Two years had gone by, and the only thing that changed was Reilly’s name and the time of day.  
Reilly ground her palms into her eyes, determined to make the tears stop. She was furious.  
Auntie didn’t talk this time; she waited for Reilly to say what was wrong.  
“Mom- thinks- I need fixing. She took me- to a counselor,” Reilly’s words came in hot broken breaths, “They’re trying- to fix me.”  
With those words, Reilly started crying again. Auntie frowned. That wouldn’t do. She’d have to have a talk with Ellen, Reilly’s mother.  
“Well, I know something that’ll fix you right up. How about a nice cup of soup hm? It’s your favorite today.” Auntie’s tone was stern, but caring.  
Reilly smiled sadly and nodded. A little while later, Auntie and Reilly were both sipping soup from their spoons in a safe, comfortable silence.

 

Reilly is 17. She’s furious. Food couldn’t possibly help her this time. She was ranting to Auntie about how she was this close to running away.  
Auntie shrugged and said with a sly smile, “Why don’t you?”  
Reilly’s entire demeanor changed. Her anger fell away. She was shocked.  
“Really?”  
Auntie smiled, “Yeah. You could come live with me. About time you do too, I was thinking of hiring you. You’d finally get paid for everything you help me with. How does that sound?”  
Reilly was in awe. She almost couldn’t believe Auntie was advocating for this. But she definitely wasn’t going to say no.  
Auntie sat back, satisfied with what she had done, “So are you going to order that burger you’ve been eyeing, or will I have to do it for you?”  
Reilly got her burger, and the next day; she ran away.


	5. A New Beginning

Reilly threw all the stuff she needed into a bag: her hockey gear, the tools she had had at the house, and a few of her old clothes. She had to do this all quickly, before her parents caught wind of what was happening.   
She was 17 now, so she was allowed to run away, right?   
She hefted the bag over her shoulder and grabbed her hockey sticks before sneaking out of her room and down the stairs. Her breath was caught in her throat as she made her way to the front door.   
“Richard?” her mom called from the kitchen, “Where are you going? There’s no game today.” Her tone was accusatory and her look was stern.  
My name’s Reilly. She took a deep breath and tried to smile in the face of her abuser. “Oh, Tyler just invited me to practice on the rink. We have a game coming up.” There was an edge to Reilly’s voice: she needed to leave.  
Her mother grew impatient, “I don’t need any back talk from you, sir.”  
Reilly flinched. Her mother knew what she was saying and how much it hurt Reilly. She could’ve sworn she saw a hint of a cruel smile on her mother’s lips, but it might’ve been her imagination.  
“I’m not back talking. I’m stating facts.” Reilly was trying so hard not to get aggressive. She had learned when to bite her tongue after years of this.  
Her mother sighed, “I know, love. Go on.”  
Reilly held her breath. Her mother’s tone was almost sickly sweet. She couldn’t stand it anymore. She opened the front door and left without another word. She could’ve sworn her mother called, “I love you.”   
She wasn’t going to believe that anymore.

 

The growl of her motorcycle’s engine comforted her as she sat in the driveway to her living hell. She took one last deep breath before speeding off down the road. Off to her Aunt’s house. Off to a new beginning.


	6. Handle with Care

Reilly was crying. She was crying. Tears washed down her cheeks. That awful feeling at the back of her throat grew stronger by the minute. Her eyes burned from crying for so long and for so hard.  
She hugged herself. Then her fingers were digging into the fabric of the quilt on her bed. Where was she? Was she safe? What was safety again? What did that feel like? Think Reilly think…  
What felt safe?  
Safe… Blankets felt safe. But only certain ones. Were these the right blankets? Reilly gathered them up around her, her breath still coming in rasping sobs. Safe… These felt safe. They felt… rough and smooth all at once. They were warm and soft.   
Yes she was safe she was safe… She started to cry harder at the thought. She could be safe… she had never thought she could feel safe before.  
But safe from what? Reilly couldn’t remember…  
Yes she could. She remembered vividly. Hair falling away in thick locks. Books hitting her across her back. Rulers and wooden spoons against her hands. Words that stung worse than any blow she’d suffered. Thoughts shoved down her throat that felt worse than the rising panic and rising tears.  
She would’ve screamed if she’d been able, but her voice was choked and strangled by sobs. Reilly felt her whole body shake as she cried. She cried and cried and cried and cried and…  
Suddenly, there was something new. Something felt weird. And different. What was it? Reilly couldn’t see. Her vision had narrowed to blurs bordered by black spots that dominated her view of the world. What was in her arms?  
It was warm. And rough and smooth… And soft. It felt safe. And squirmy. Reilly held it tight. She held on as if she might lose it. Lose it… The thing in her arms or her safety?  
There was a yelp. Reilly sniffed. Careful, Reilly. You need to be more careful. There are things more delicate than you right now.  
She looked down at her arms, her vision still stunted. But she was able to make something out: a small wriggling… Puppy. She had a puppy in her arms. Where did it come from?  
Auntie…  
Reilly sniffed and wiped the tears from her stinging eyes. She was sitting in her bedroom at Auntie’s house. She realized that Auntie must’ve come in while she was crying. Reilly didn’t even hear her…  
But she was safe, she was safe and she’d make sure that this puppy was too.


End file.
